


Five Times Loid and Yor Almost Kiss, and One Time They Actually Do

by Meepy



Category: SPY x FAMILY (Manga)
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/M, fake fam real feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:15:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24262678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meepy/pseuds/Meepy
Summary: Or, the Forgers try their best to maintain the farce.
Relationships: Loid Forger | Twilight/Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess, Yor Briar & Yuri Briar
Comments: 30
Kudos: 267





	Five Times Loid and Yor Almost Kiss, and One Time They Actually Do

**0001**

Despite his recent demotion from housemaster to simple homeroom teacher, Henry Henderson was wholly dedicated to the success of Eden Academy. As such, he made an effort to continue his customary patrols around campus grounds to ensure that everything was in proper and elegant condition.

Henderson paused during his rounds as he spotted a familiar couple standing outside of the main building, alongside housemaster Murdoch Swan.

The Forgers, he quickly realized.

Henderson moved swiftly, finding a hiding place within earshot around the corner of the building. It was not a particularly regal action, he knew, but the teacher was curious as to how the Forgers would handle Swan this time.

“What brings you here?” he heard Swan sneer.

“We’re dropping off documents for our daughter’s enrollment,” came Mr Forger’s calm response.

“Oh, your _daughter_. The one who cried at the littlest thing—truly, a disgrace to Eden Academy.”

Henderson glanced around the corner at those words. He saw the way Ms Forger’s hands clenched and unclenched into fists, yet she remained silent. It had become increasingly obvious to Henderson that Swan was simply trying to rile up the couple as he prattled off more rude remarks—most likely in an attempt to cause a big enough scene to justify rescinding their daughter’s acceptance into the academy.

How inelegant.

The Forgers, however, seemed to be taking his comments in stride. They evidently had enough elegance to pick up on Swan’s scheming.

“And Ms Forger, it must be so difficult knowing that your daughter will always prefer her first mother over you,” Swan continued, his voice dripping in contempt. “The way she still cries over her.”

Henderson felt the sudden urge to punch Swan in the face once more.

“Master Swan,” Mr Forger cut in, steely, “we really must be on our way.”

Swan ignored his interjection, choosing to direct his attention to his wife instead. “Does your husband prefer her as well? He won’t even hold your hand—won’t even kiss you, will he?” 

Swan laughed, a harsh sound.

“It’s really none of your business,” Ms Forger gritted out.

He laughed again. “Why won’t he just kiss you then? Then I won’t make it any more of my business.”

At that, Mr Forger took a step closer to his wife. His arm moved and he cupped her cheek with his right hand, then tilted her chin up towards him. He leaned in, close.

Henderson couldn’t stop the scandalized gasp that escaped his lips. Such a public display of affection, on school grounds? How inelegant!

Surely he couldn’t be wrong about the Forgers. They had proved themselves wonderfully on the day of their application interview, after all. He was willing to watch this through to the end, to give them the benefit of the doubt yet again. Surely they wouldn’t disappoint.

When Mr Forger pulled back, he raised his hand to display something. A handkerchief, Henderson quickly deduced. On it, a streak of ruby red marked the pure white of the fabric.

“Sorry, Yor, I had noticed that your lipstick smudged,” he apologized, tone soft. He elegantly pocketed the handkerchief, then turned to face Swan once again.

Though he couldn’t see his face clearly, Henderson was almost certain Mr Forger was shooting daggers at Swan with his eyes. His voice was cold as he stated, “I have no obligation to make _my_ wife uncomfortable to appease _you_.”

Swan sputtered indignantly in response.

“Now, we really must be going.” Mr Forger ended the conversation there, grabbing his wife’s hand as they swiftly walked away.

Henderson couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips as he watched the couple depart.

Truly, the Forgers were the embodiment of elegance.

**0010**

If there was one thing that Yuri was certain about his sister, it was that she deserved the world. And so much more, to be completely honest.

She had, after all, done everything for him when they were children. She had worked hard to maintain normality in their fragmented family after everything had fallen apart. She picked up the pieces when they had nothing more than each other and their broken smiles. She was, frankly, everything he had, the only person who could still allow him to feel something as simplistic as childish joy—something he had since long thrown away for her.

Loid Forger, Yuri pointedly decided, was not the world. Sure, the man seemed to be smart, well-articulated, and well put together. Sure, he was also a talented cook, and he probably made a good amount of money too based off of their living space, and perhaps he was devilishly handsome as well (in a completely objective way; Yuri was objective like that)—but he was not good enough for Yor.

Yuri couldn’t help glaring at his sister’s husband as he sat in the living room of their shared home, nursing a bottle of wine. He was here to evaluate the man’s worthiness; likely a fruitless endeavor, because he settled on his conclusion within seconds.

His sister was incredibly kind and despite her monstrous strength, a delicate woman! She deserved someone who would look after and protect her, someone who had her best interests in mind, someone who would move heaven and earth for her. Loid struck him more as the type who would move just one or the other, not both. In his completely objective opinion.

Drunkenly, he demanded to see some intimacy between the couple, to prove that it was real. To prove that she was really, truly happy. It made perfect sense in his inebriated stupor.

Yuri quietly observed as the two sat near each other, whispering soft words to one another. They leaned in, their faces moving in for a kiss. Their lips were close, almost touching. He was filled with dread as he watched his sister—his _family_ —being taken away from him in front of his very eyes.

He wasn’t ready, he realized. He was still just a little boy in a broken home clinging so dearly to his older sister

But the fact that she had been so clearly _smitten_ with her husband, hurtling her own brother across their living room as he darted forward to pull them apart, just so she could kiss Loid, had his own world turning upside down. It became apparent that he hadn’t properly considered the extent of Yor’s feelings.

Maybe he wasn’t ready yet, but she was.

Nobody would be good enough for his sister, he knew.

He tainted his hands in blood for her, after all; gave up a life of innocence for her to live one of normalcy and happiness following their crooked childhood.

Maybe if Loid could give her even a semblance of the happy family that they were, that she so deserved, he would allow it. 

Until then, he would continue to dye himself in red to protect her everyday life.

**0011**

“And that was all I was able to figure out, given the timing,” Frankie stated. Twilight was quiet, a contemplative look on his face. As they stood together in silence, outside a cafe in the city’s core downtown, the everyday bustle of the lunchtime rush continued around them. Sometimes it was easiest to hide in the open, when you could see everyone yet no one at the same time.

“Man, I thought you’d be more concerned, to be honest,” Frankie eventually remarked.

“Give me a moment. I’m just thinking. They’ve been stretching me thin with all this work lately, but I couldn’t turn down this project either,” Twilight answered. “Have you considered looking into—”

“—Loid?” a familiar voice interrupted. The two men stopped and turned towards the sound of the voice.

Frankie saw the way his friend’s entire posture flipped in a second and how his mouth quirked upwards into a fake smile at the sight of his fake wife. As expected of a high-class agent like Twilight.

“Hello, Yor,” Twilight greeted. “I wasn’t expecting to see you around here.”

“I was just passing by; my boss sent me on an errand,” she explained, an amicable (genuine, Frankie noted) smile on her face. She turned to Frankie next, the smile still on her lips. “Thank you for always lending us a hand with Anya.”

He cracked a grin. “No worries. Loid’s one of my best friends; I’m more than happy to lend him a helping hand. And Anya’s a lovely little girl too, so it’s always a pleasure.”

Twilight wasn’t the only one who could pull off a fake persona at the drop of a hat, he mused to himself.

“I’m happy to hear that,” Yor beamed. “Anyway, it was good seeing you again, but I should probably get going now.”

Twilight tipped his hat at her and Frankie noticed him say something, but he didn't hear what. Then he saw her lean in close, so close it almost looked like a kiss—until she turned her face away at the last second and instead, whispered something in her fake husband’s ear. Her own ears were flushed red as she pulled away and bid them both a quick goodbye before hurrying off.

Once she was out of earshot, Frankie turned to look at Twilight, an eyebrow raised questioningly as he asked, “What was all that about?”

“She told me that she likes cheese,” he deadpanned, evidently unfazed by her impromptu declaration.

“How romantic,” he snorted. “That was a terrible attempt at a goodbye kiss.”

“I suspect she’s become more conscious about how we’re perceived as a married couple due to some recent events, but actions like these aren’t necessary. Not that we need to prove anything to you, anyway.” He frowned. “Besides, I’m not trying to bring feelings into this—”

“You never do,” Frankie interjected.

“—But she might.”

He blinked. “And why would you care if she does?”

The spy took a second longer to reply than usual, but it was still a noticeable enough second for Frankie—”I don’t.”

“Oh, that’s a cold way to treat your wife,” he said wryly, then straightened up. “Well, that’s how it should be anyway—but just a heads up, acting like shy schoolkids as a supposedly married couple doesn’t do much for you guys.”

“I’m well aware, but she’s not trained for this.” Twilight let out a sigh; Frankie knew that partnering up with outsiders had been a pain point for the agent since the very start of the mission.

“Then is it really so bad if she feels something a little real for you? Isn’t that good for the story?” he inquired. “That’s how it’s always been for your other… ‘relationships.’”

“… No, you’re right; it’s all one-sided. It normally wouldn’t be a problem.” He raised a hand to his chin, a thoughtful expression on his face. “It’d certainly be more convincing, at the very least.”

 _Normally_ , Frankie wanted to repeat, but didn't.

He let out a sigh, reaching out to place a hand on Twilight’s shoulder. The agent moved, shrugging him off almost immediately. Frankie continued, “Well, you can’t say I didn’t say anything.”

“I know what I’m doing and how to approach this,” Twilight said, voice steely, “and I’ll see this through to the very end.”

“I’m not doubting your capabilities, y’know,” Frankie replied, and left it at that.

Yet there was a part of him that still wondered.

**0100**

Yor entered the apartment at four in the morning as quietly as she could. She was thankful for the fact that she and Loid had separate bedrooms; it made slipping in and out of their home during the night so much easier for her job.

She tiptoed through the living room but abruptly stopped once she noticed Loid, fast asleep on their couch. She frowned.

 _Long hours again with his patients_ , she realized, belatedly remembering that he had yet to return home by the time she left for her own work—belatedly remembering how she had tucked Anya into bed earlier that evening and assured her that Loid would be back soon.

Again, it made things so much easier for her like this.

Still, she couldn’t help but admire how hard he worked for his clients—for Anya. It reminded her a bit of herself when she was younger, working herself to literal bone and blood for Yuri.

Her feet moved on their own, leading her further into the living room until she was squatted next to her sleeping partner. She watched the soft rise and fall of his chest, listened to his quiet breaths. He must have been exhausted if he couldn’t even make it to his bedroom. Their couch wasn’t nearly long enough for him to be comfortable; his feet were propped up awkwardly at the other end, and that atrocious sleeping posture would probably lead to a sore neck in the morning.

In the silence of the night, Yor found herself studying his features. It wasn’t often she had this opportunity; after all, their entire marriage wasn’t real. There was no reason to ever get so personal like this, not unless they were keeping up appearances in public.

There were bags under his eyes and his hair was unkempt, she noted, nothing like how it usually was during the day. He was fatigued, no doubt about it. Despite everything, Yor found herself smiling.

He was a good father to Anya. He worked tirelessly for his daughter, she could tell.

Yor wanted to do her best for Anya, too. She knew how hard it could be to lose a mother—to have a family of just one other. Even if it was for only a while, she wanted to give Anya a happy family. She wanted Anya to live the happy, normal life she never really had; the happy, normal life she worked so hard to give to Yuri.

A happy family with a happily in love mother and father.

She shifted slightly, her head tilting forward.

Loid stirred in his sleep then and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

Suddenly, she was acutely aware of how close she had gotten to him. She felt her face warm as she swiftly pulled away, almost stumbling on her feet.

Oh, no. 

No, no, no.

She was tired too—tired because it was four in the morning, tired because she just expended all of her energy on her latest assignment. She evidently wasn’t thinking clearly, and she definitely hadn’t just been leaning in to leave a kiss on his lips, not while he was asleep. And if she _had_ been, it was only because she was tired from work!

Yor straightened her back.

Right. Her mission was done. She needed to go clean up now, needed to scrub off the dried blood from her hands before the sun rose. She hurried to her bedroom, quickly discarded her bloodied clothes and washed up before crawling into bed.

She tried not to dwell too much on what had almost just happened, tried not to think about what it would have felt like.

It wasn’t long until her exhaustion took over and she drifted to sleep, dreaming of a simple happy family.

**0101**

“Thanks for coming again, Loid,” said Yor as the couple walked into her latest corporate party.

“Of course,” was his simple reply.

“Honestly, it’s not like Yuri is watching over us this time, so I don’t think you needed to come for this one,” she murmured, voice low.

“If I hadn’t come, people would talk,” he answered in a similarly low tone. “They’d ask questions.”

Yor pursed her lips in contemplation. “Well, it’s probably fine for you to miss out on one or two of these parties. You’ve been pulling long hours at work, after all.”

“These aren’t frequent enough that it’d be something to worry about,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand, briefly recalling the first work party they had attended together as part of their original arrangement. “It’s better to just avoid any questions outright if we can. It was _my_ slip up in the first place, after all.”

She let out a light laugh. “I guess you’re right. You’ve really thought this through, Loid.”

He blinked. “Of course I have. Besides, it’s only fair I keep up my end of our agreement. You spend more time with Anya than I do at these kinds of events.”

He didn’t want a repeat of what had occurred with Yuri. No more questions, just a perfect couple. A perfect family.

“I like spending time with Anya,” she hummed.

His lips quirked upwards into a small smile. “Well, I’m glad to hear that.”

“Anyway, let’s try to enjoy ourselves!” Yor beamed. The couple made their way around the party, exchanging greetings with each of Yor’s coworkers. Simple small talk was shared, and Twilight spoke vaguely of work as a psychiatrist. When Camilla arrived, she threw around a few pointed remarks before trotting off with her boyfriend in a huff. Time passed quickly despite all of the mundane conversations; he was accustomed to attending meaningless parties for the sake of his missions.

With the party now in full swing, Twilight made note of how the dance floor was filling up. Upon inspection, it appeared to be occupied primarily by couples in romantic relationships—so the next move was clear.

“Yor, would you like to dance?” he asked, holding up his hand to her.

A light blush dusted her cheeks at the suggestion. Still, she grasped his hand in hers. “I’m not much of a dancer, though.”

Twilight politely excused themselves from the small group of partygoers they had been speaking to. He offered Yor a reassuring smile as he led her onto the dance floor, saying, “Just follow my lead.”

She nodded and gave him an unsure smile of her own in return.

She was surprisingly good on her feet, however, able to match each of his steps. He, of course, had perfected multiple types of ballroom dancing over the years—from the waltz to the foxtrot to the quickstep. A good leader was key to ballroom dancing, but it was still imperative that the partner could skillfully follow.

Yor did as much, following every move with precision throughout the entire song.

On the final beat, Twilight leaned in close, his cheek pressed next to hers. He could feel her breath on his neck, warm.

This was when he would normally sweep his date off their feet, seduce them away into the quiet of the night and whisper sweet nothings into their ear until _they_ started whispering everything—secrets, speculations, carefully concealed truths.

But this was Yor—his partner, unlike every other woman he used as a necessary pawn—so instead, he strategically angled their faces in such a way that he knew would make it look as though they were kissing. Yor let out a squeak as he shifted their posture, but still maintained the position.

After counting to five, they separated.

Twilight flashed her his most perfect smile—people were watching, after all—and she mumbled something incoherent in response, her face still glowing a soft pink.

He thought back to Frankie, thought about _feelings_. What feelings? There was nothing to worry about.

He was an expert.

And Yor was—

“—Wow,” she breathed, “wow. You’re a really good dancer, Loid.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “The waltz isn’t very difficult.”

“Still! It was impressive,” she reiterated. As if to prove her point, a coworker approached the two to compliment them on their dance. Soon they were dragged into another group conversation, and the rest of the night continued without a hitch.

 _Another successful task accomplished_ , Twilight concluded as they left the venue together, arm in arm; they were the perfect couple.

**0110**

“Becky told me that boys have cooties,” Anya declared as she and Yor sat at the dinner table, waiting for Loid to finish plating. Loid had pointedly removed Yor from any and all duties pertaining to dinner despite her protests and sulking, citing her most recent kitchen disaster as reason enough.

Loid let out a noncommittal grunt in response as he moved all of the food onto the table.

“She said that boys are stinky, too,” Anya continued as Loid pulled up a seat next to her and across from Yor. “Mama, is that why you don’t wanna kiss Papa? Because he’s stinky? Cooties?”

He coughed.

“Eh? Oh, no. No, Papa isn’t stinky!” Yor waved her hands around animatedly as though that somehow helped her point. Loid gave her a weary look.

Anya made a face. “Well, Papa and Mama still haven’t kissed yet! Is it cooties, then?”

“No, Anya, it’s not cooties.” He sighed.

“That’s what someone with cooties would say,” she huffed. 

Yor let out a soft laugh and he sighed again. 

“I’m not gonna do my homework until Papa and Mama kiss!” Anya suddenly exclaimed.

At that proclamation, something seemed to switch on within Loid. His back straightened and it was almost as though he was on high alert. “Anya. Anya, you _need_ to do your homework. If you don’t, you’ll fall behind in class. We can’t have you falling behind in class, Anya.”

She pouted in response and defiantly shook her head.

“Anya,” he started, voice stern.

Yor coughed into her fist then, drawing his attention.

Her voice was low as she asked, “Well, should we…? I mean, it’s important for Anya to do her work. And it’s just… just a kiss. It’s something we should be able to do.” 

Her cheeks flushed at the very suggestion.

He frowned. “We shouldn’t spoil her by following through with these kinds of silly demands.”

Yor paused as though she wanted to say something about his remark. She didn’t.

Eventually, she spoke, “You’re right. But Anya’s really pouting there.”

She tilted her head to the little girl in question, her cheeks puffed in rebellion.

“She can pout as much as she wants, but we don’t need to do this. She’ll drop it eventually, like she always does,” he reiterated. 

A pause. His brow furrowed as though he was deep in thought. “Probably.”

He looked back at Anya then and saw her reaching across the table, her hands gesturing towards him.

“It’s rude to have your arms on the table, Anya,” he instinctively reprimanded.

“But this is important, Papa,” she stated confidently. She clenched and unclenched her hands in an opening motion, trying to get Loid to do the same. He eventually complied, opening up his fist. On his palm, Anya confidently traced the shape of a circle, then pressed her index finger into his skin a couple of times over.

“There, now you’re safe! Becky taught me how to do a cootie shoot, too. So Mama doesn’t need to worry anymore.” She pulled back, looking especially proud of herself.

“Wow, Anya! That’s amazing!” Yor clapped her hands together in praise.

She beamed, “Now Mama and Papa can kiss.”

Loid let out another sigh. He opened his mouth to speak again, but was promptly interrupted by a familiar theme song blaring loudly from the television in the living room. Anya whipped her head around at the sound, her eyes wide.

“Anya, you haven’t eaten dinner yet,” Loid reminded, his tone exasperated.

“Nooo, I don’t want to miss _Spy Wars_ ,” she whined in response. 

He gave her a look.

“I’ll do my homework, Papa, I promise! After _Spy Wars!_ ”

Again, something seemed to switch on within Loid. He stood up from his seat then and moved to scoop Anya up into his arms. “Only for tonight. Then you’re doing your homework after dinner. No complaints, and no more cootie shots.”

“Promise!” Anya nodded her head rapidly, all worries about cooties and stinky boys suddenly forgotten.

He exchanged a glance with Yor then; she smiled knowingly.

Loid sighed for the umpteenth time that evening as he headed into the living room with Anya.

  
  


After _Spy Wars_ , dinner, and another valiant attempt at fractions, Anya was tucked snugly into bed.

Standing in the hallway, their home felt a lot quieter now that Anya was asleep. Sometimes she truly felt like the life of their makeshift family, loud and playful and full of energy.

But the quiet was important, too. They needed their rest—deserved it, given how hectic it had been earlier in the evening.

Loid opened his mouth then, ready to wish Yor a good night.

“I don’t think you’re stinky, Loid,” Yor suddenly declared before he could speak.

He closed his mouth. Opened it again. “I don’t think you’re stinky either?”

“Good! I mean, thank you! I mean, that’s not what I actually mean!” she exclaimed.

He cocked an eyebrow. “What are you talking about, Yor?”

“I… I don’t think you’re stinky, and I don’t think you have cooties either,” she repeated.

He nodded his head, encouraging her to continue.

“So, this is…,” she trailed off, her cheeks warming. “This is… just how it is.”

She took a step closer, then another, until they stood almost touching.

“Yor, I really don’t know what you—”

Grabbing the collar of his shirt, she pulled him down towards her. Her mouth pressed against his, a gentle, brief kiss. Her lips were soft and she smelled sweet, Loid noticed with startling realization. His hand twitched, almost moving to rest on her hip until he consciously stopped himself. 

Releasing her grip on his shirt, she took a step back. Her face was completely red and her eyes were directed at the floor with sudden interest.

He blinked once, twice.

Before he could say a word, Yor stuttered a high-pitched “good night!” and abruptly rushed into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her with almost enough force to rip it off its hinges.

He stood there.

Looked at her bedroom door, then his.

Stood a bit longer.

The hardwood under his feet felt different as he eventually made his way into his own room.

That night as he laid in bed, he speculated over the 28 possible explanations for her actions.

**Author's Note:**

> me: man, more sxf family fics would be gr8  
> also me: writes more shipping stuff
> 
> I’ve… had this in progress since October 2019? and i’m lowkey not caught up with the manga anymore lol i hope this turned out ok though. I feel like I kinda lost their character voices somewhere along the way… haha /sweats but I really just wanted to finally finish this, so I’m sorry if the characterization was kinda iffy (or if the story already feels outdated...)
> 
> and I apologize Yuri’s part was kinda just a rehash of his chapters in the manga but I really wanted to include his POV, but also didn’t know how else to incorporate him. I did have some fun getting into his headspace though! it ended up being a lot more sentimental than I thought it would be, because I initially planned it to be very joke-y.
> 
> anyway, thanks for reading!


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